Just a Little Unwell
by DeathbyFandoms
Summary: Melanie runs away from her parents in an attempt to escape her dark past. The very next night a man is murdered in his apartment. Only Melanie seems to know who the murderer is. With only a note to go on, this may be the hardest, and most exciting, case Sherlock had ever taken on. Especially when the murderer promises three more dead, with Sherlock as the last. (T b/c I'm paranoid)


**Hey! Thanks for checking this out, it is my first fanfic and I hope you like it!**

**Quick thanks to my family. And to my friends Keira Higurashi9, MedievalHarpy, and friend-who-is-not-on-fan fiction-yet.**

**Plus! Kudos to my betas for being so awesome and supportive! I was lucky enough to have you two ****J**

**mylovelymindpalace**

**MerlinPsych**

**Disclaimer: how about we play 2 truths and a lie? My favorite color is purple. I love lots of fandoms. I own Sherlock.**

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The city was so dreary, so unfamiliar; full of mystery in its twists and turns. And it was wonderful. Ever since I had heard of the huge buildings and streets that went on and on in whichever way they pleased, I knew that it was where I was going to go. London.

I caught myself with my mouth open again, and quickly changed it into a yawn instead. I didn't know who could be watching. I had to stay in character. It was my life now and I'd better get used to the mask.

Putting on my best bored look, I shifted my gaze to the front of the cab. The cabbie was an elderly man of about sixty years old with a haunted look about him. He didn't ask any questions beyond where I was headed, which made my job easier. His eyes caught me looking and I subconsciously straightened my back, fixing my mom's business suit so it didn't hang too loosely on me. At the same time I turned my head to look at the street sign up ahead.

_Grove Road_

That meant I was close to my third stop. For my trip I had planned a couple stops to change taxis, with the intent to make me as untraceable as possible so they would never find me. So I wouldn't have to go back to that house.

I tried not to react while the memories took hold, and the inevitable pain that always accompanied them. Filled with faces of people I've tried hard to bury in my past.

What if they alerted the police? Was my face plastered on a post under the word MISSING? My hands shook as they clutched the fabric of the gray pencil skirt. Twisting themselves into sweaty knots. My breath started coming at a fiercer rate than usual, and my eyes frantically searched for the flashing red and blue lights of a police car.

"We're here."

The sound jerked me back to reality. Nobody was coming for me. Nobody.

"Thank you," I said as curtly as I could without being too impolite. I drove away the disturbing thoughts, concentrating to put on the façade of the average disgruntled adult.

I handed over some money, flinching as I did so. I didn't have much money to begin with and everything counts. I then dragged out a plain brown messenger bag and what had to be the tiniest suitcase in existence. Not exactly what you'd imagine a business worker to be carrying along with her, but then again a young teen with travel bags all on her own would have been even more suspicious.

Walking with purpose I headed up the street, waiting till I heard the cabbie drive off and then some for the surrounding cars to pass by. I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket. Written in my sloppy hand writing was the address '221b Baker Street' and a hand drawn map of the route I would take.

I stuffed it back in my pocket and looked up. People were staring. They took in my 5'6" frame with my hair in a sloppy bun, suit hanging off my shoulders and knew I was different. I needed to get out of there quickly, so they could go ahead with their lives and forget about me. I waved down yet another cab.

"Where are you off too?"

This time the cabbie was a woman who looked to be in her thirties and wearing the brightest blue I had ever seen on a dress.

"Baker Street." I said while pushing my bags to one side.

"Ah! Well now, that will be a short trip then. What brings you there?"

_Great, I was hoping to avoid conversation for as long as possible. _

"I'm staying with some friends of mine."

I'd lied. I didn't have any friends and I didn't intend to make any till I'd had a chance to get back on my feet.

"How nice! You know, I have a friend whose sister lives down there. And you know what she told me! She said that she could get some of the juiciest gossip of all of London!"

"Oh," I could tell she wanted to go on; she just needed a little push to get started. Hopefully I could just sit here and let her do all the talking.

"Yes! And I was so surprised when she told me more about it that I actually half choked on my coffee! She said that her sister has sold out her flat, and you would not believe who she sold it to!"

It was about now that I decided it was safe to let her drone on without listening to closely. I turned instead toward the window, and watched as rain started to gently pour down on the world. Everything flowed into a soft blur as the raindrops pattered onto the window pain. Men and women rushed onward unaffected by the beauty surrounding them. The world looked to be sad and happy at the same time, it was utterly impossible to fully describe the depth of feeling that hid behind the raindrops.

"-and I said Sherlock Holmes! You have got to be kidding me! But I tell you it is entirely true! For just the other day I checked online to make sure, and as real as the rain there it was! 221b Baker Street! I never thought I would know someone with such connections! Not that I think of him any differently than the rest of England. He is definitely wrong in the head, and I personally want nothing to do with him. Ah, here we are. Well I hope you find your friend's house alright!"

I got out of the car automatically, even though I was stunned. Rain ran down my face, and started to soak through the coat that was my only protection against the cold other than a thin white shirt underneath. I remember passing some money to the woman but shock was all I felt. My feet stumbled because of the high heels on the shoes I wore, and I couldn't concentrate hard enough to cover it up.

_Sherlock Holmes. _

Everyone had heard of the famous detective, and everyone agreed that he was… Odd. There was talk of the experiments he conducted in his kitchen. How he had memorized the roads of London and all the alleyways, and the road signs. How he enjoyed a murder case, and some even said that he is the mastermind behind the occasional case just because he was bored. How he could read a person's life story just by glancing at them…

_I'll just stay away from him. Shouldn't be too hard, he must be busy. Maybe he'll even be gone all day._

There it was. The numbers 221b were glistening in the rain. I stopped in front of the steps and stared at them.

_What am I thinking! He'll see me eventually and then he will tell the police and-and I'll have to go back. _

I looked down the street, not a person in sight. Not that anyone would help me if there was. I slumped forward, letting the cold take over. My hand went up to wipe rain from my eyes, and maybe something else too. I don't have any other option.

_Except to go back._

I took a step forwards, determination bringing me to the door. My lips pressed in a thin line, my back straight with purpose again. Nothing will ever bring me into that world again.

No more looking back. No more childish fear. It was time to grow up and face the world.

I had barely knocked twice on the door when a lady answered. She was a little taller than me, just about 3 inches, and wearing a gentle cream colored blouse. Her hair was tinged with gray, and her face was lined. But she looked kind, like a grandmother I didn't have. Once I was inside she instantly invited me to take tea with her and to discuss some final details about my room, introducing herself as Mrs. Hudson.

"Here you poor thing, probably stuck in the rain the whole time weren't you Miss Coltsford?"

"For some of the time." I said as she poured tea into my mug, my eyes searching everywhere for any sign that the detective was in the house.

"I am so sorry that we don't have use of the china, Sher- Mr. Holmes has, completely by mistake of course, broken my whole set. He is in the top flat with a friend of his, my own rooms are on this floor so you will be down stairs." She smiled and poured herself a second cup, my own only half finished.

"That sounds great! And, um, sorry to sound rude. But, I was wondering if…If I could do some chores… no, well I guess I mean…."

_This isn't going well, I sound nervous. I can't be nervous! It's not very… Adult like!_

I stopped the words that were pouring out and clenched my teeth. Then, taking a deep breath, I faced Mrs. Hudson and spat out the best thing that came to mind.

"I was just wondering if you would take me on as a house keeper of sorts. At least until I get on my feet with a full time job." She looked stunned, her mug of tea half way to her lips.

"Unless it is too much to ask, in which case-"

"Oh no dear, that would be perfect!" Mrs. Hudson started to smile as she went on, her mug completely forgotten.

"I have been thinking of getting some help for around the house, and I have noticed that with my bad hip I can't get up the stairs as well as I used to."

I started to smile as well; things were going to be alright. Being an adult isn't as hard as I had originally thought. And this temporary job will help with my money problem.

Mrs. Hudson gave me a pretty quick interview, getting the basics down. I told her the partially true story I had come up with for my new life.

My story was short and normal, I was 21, and had come from Ipswich looking to get a start in the world. I wanted to get into a college, but didn't have the money and that's why I need a job. My mom and dad had died when I was young, so I had lived with my grandmother most of my life. I didn't have any other family that I knew of, and now that I was old enough to work and was hoping to keep my grandmother in a good retirement home, which brought me back to the money problem.

It wasn't the best life story, but it was all I could think of at the time. Back then I had rushed through the thinking stage and got right to actually doing them. I had even registered for the room under my real name by accident.

"Well, I think that you will be just right for the job. And, if I may ask, what kind of job are you hoping to get?"

I had prepared for most of the questions I would answer often, but even I didn't know what I was going to look into yet.

"Uh… An agent?" it was the first thing I could think of that wasn't to normal. I had to be slightly different.

"Like a travel agent?"

"….Yeah. That or maybe a secretary."

"That's great! Alright, now that that's sorted, I'll show you to your flat so you can get settled in."

Relief filled my thoughts as Mrs. Hudson showed me down stairs to a comfortable looking room. She left me to unpack my few belongings, and said that she would give me a list of my duties tonight.

The first thing I noticed about the room was the smell of fresh paint. I could tell it had been redone recently, probably because of the mold problem mentioned online. The only signs of mold that I could see were on the ceiling, it had been cleaned up as much as possible, but it was still there. It was the reason I got the flat so cheap, nobody else wanted to live with mold. But it was definitely better than where I used to be, and if it meant getting away from there, I could stand a little mold.

The room was a good size, with a small fireplace on the other side of the room, and a couple pieces of furniture. A bed and nightstand were situated near the fire place, and a wardrobe was next to a small table with two chairs on the opposite wall from the bed. Straight across from the door there was a downsized kitchen with a short fridge, some cupboard space and an electric stove filling the space between the counter and the fridge.

Yes, I could definitely live here.

After I finished up packing, which took just about ten minutes, I went up stairs real quick to ask if I could use a computer for a moment.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

I look into a quant living room and there she was, dusting off some pictures on a shelf. At least, that was probably what she had been doing. It looked as if she had slipped into the past.

"Mrs. Hudson."

She gave a little jump at the sound of my voice, but quickly recovered.

"Hmm? Oh, yes dear?"

"I'm sorry, I was just wondering if I could quickly use your computer. To look up job listings."

"You must be eager to get to collage Miss Coltsford." She gave me a smile as if remembering when she was that young.

"Oh, you can call me Melanie."

"Well, Melanie. I unfortunately don't have a computer."

Just then a loud thump emanated from upstairs, accompanied by the sound of a door being swiftly closed. Two figures came down the dim hall and headed for the door. Parts of their conversation floated over to living room. One had a deep voice and did most of the talking that I heard.

"…finally got the results in….proves what should have been obvious….useless meeting their dragging us to…. plan on sleeping through the whole thing….."

It could only be the genius detective Sher-

"Oh Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson then turned to me saying, "I can't quite remember which one of them had the laptop but I am sure they wouldn't mind sharing real quick. Sherlock can such a sweet heart when he wants to."

_Oh great._

What should I do? What should I say? I can't get out of meeting him. What kind of emotions does this situation call for?

Mrs. Hudson walked over to the hall pulling me along by my wrist. One of them was of middle height and had a kind look about him. He had gray tinged hair, but couldn't have been more than forty. The other was tall and thin with a mop of black hair and high cheekbones which gave him an interesting look when mixed with a scarf and dark trench coat, which had the collar turned up for no apparent reason. Didn't take much to guess who was Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock, Dr. Watson, could I ask a favor of you two? This is Miss Coltsford by the way. She just moved into the room downstairs that I had fixed up. Miss Coltsford, this is Dr. Watson, and Sherlock Holmes."

The one who had to be Dr. Watson hurriedly finished pulling on his coat and held out his hand with a nod and a smile. I had to remember how to smile as I shook his hand.

"John Watson, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you to…." I tried to look like I was surprised that I was meeting two famous detectives. But almost immediately stopped when both Dr. Watson and Mrs. Hudson gave me confused looks. Guess I was to high strung to do anything but blank stares and robotic smiles.

_Great, he had to have seen that._

But the famous Sherlock Holmes had barely glanced in my direction. He hadn't even said hello, which is probably for the best.

_Maybe he doesn't consider me so important as to look hard enough to see through my act. _

"Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson gave him a look, and after a moment or two he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Good evening."

"Well, now that we're introduced." Dr. Watson said towards Mrs. Hudson, "What can we do for you?"

"Oh, yes. Miss Coltsford here needs to quickly use the internet to search for job listings. I know that at least one of you has a computer of sorts-"

"That won't be necessary." Sherlock interrupted. He than pulled out a phone from his pocket and punched in the password. Holding it out to me till I took the phone.

"Its internet enabled. Just slip it under the door when your done." With that, he walked off and out the door.

All of us had confused expressions on, but I think I had some relief mixed in there as well. Surprise held us in those positions for a whole minute, before the question in my mind fell from my numb lips.

"Does he do that often?"

"Usually he's a lot worse." Dr. Watson said as he looked over his shoulder at the door, "I'm shocked that he didn't…" Leaving his sentence hanging, he started to search for something in his pockets.

The phone Sherlock left in my hand vibrated, almost making me drop it. At the same time Dr Watson said something about leaving his phone somewhere. Meanwhile on the screen of the phone was a word bubble telling me that it had received a text from…

"John W?"

"Hmm?" Dr Watson stopped and looked up.

"Oh just… Well there is a text here saying 'get in the taxi Lestrade is already mad'. And that it's from a 'John W'."

"Not again. He did not just steal my phone again!" Dr Watson rushed out of the of the house saying a hasty 'Goodbye' before shutting the front door.

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"… Its time… Time to begin!.."

A rat darted behind a soggy trash heap, startled by the words and the sudden appearance of the man who spoke them. He was standing in the shadows the alley generously provided. If there had been anyone to witness the strange man, they wouldn't have seen much of him. All that was discernible in the shadows were two eyes staring out into the darkness and below them the grin of a madman.

A gleam of metal flashed as he pulled a gloved hand out of his pocket to check his watch. He kept staring at it until a very old beat up car pulled in front of the apartment complex next to the guy in the shadows. Another, obviously tired, and slightly overweight man in his forties dragged himself out of the car and into the building.

"…Its finally time…"

The strange man whispered as he crept over to the brick wall of the apartment building.

"…I've waited for so long…"

Black gloves fell to the wet ground, the hands that occupied them reaching up wriggling themselves into crevices.

"…Now the wait is over…"

The black clad man started to climb, the knives on his belt clinking menacingly, the blades gleaming in the weak moonlight.

"…And the fun begins…"

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**Who was the man in the shadows? Why did Sherlock stay quiet about Melanie? And why did he give her his phone?**

**Feel free to ask questions! I may not be able to answer some of them because it would give away the plot, but I will try my best!**

**And please please please review and tell me what you think!**


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